Stupid Cupid
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: *Re-Post* Set immediately at the end of Season 1's The Matchmaker. Mrs Howell decides to matchmake The Professor and Ginger. They manage to cleverly avoid her schemes, but find out that Fate has ideas of her own about them...


_**A/N:** Another Pinger fic, set at the end of the Season 1 episode, _The Matchmaker_. Dedicated as always to **Teobi** and **JWood201**, my GI buddies and all round good eggs._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gilligan's Island. If only I did, I would've arranged for Agent 222 to have stayed on the island permanently. Two Gilligans - no messing. The title has been pinched from the famous song written by Howard Greenfield and Neil Sedaka, sung by Connie Francis. _

**Stupid Cupid**

Ginger saw Mrs Howell head towards them, waving her handkerchief, and she nudged the Professor briefly.

"Don't look now, but I think Mrs Howell has that gleam in her eye again," she warned, quietly. He frowned.

"What gleam?" he asked, turning round. His face fell at the determined expression on Mrs Howell's face. "Oh, brother!" he mumbled, his shoulders dropping in despair. He stood up from the rock he'd been sitting on as Mrs Howell reached them. "Good morning, Mrs Howell," he began, trying to disguise how worried he felt.

Mrs Howell's bungled attempt at matchmaking Gilligan and Mary Ann was still fresh in his mind. The last thing he wanted was for her to ride roughshod over his and Ginger's friendship. After all, things had been quite strained between them for a few days, following their disagreement at the breakfast table and his subsequent storming off in high dudgeon, and they had only just started to thaw out toward each other again.

"Professor! Ginger!" she began, touching each of them lightly on their shoulders, her beaming smile radiating the level of light and love that one could only exude after having been blissfully married for twenty years. This is what she had resolved to tell them, anyway, if they asked why she looked so happy.

"Good morning, Mrs Howell," Ginger replied, politely, eyeing the Professor with the smallest of grins at the corner of her perfectly made-up lips. The Professor's lips pinched together in a wry smile and he looked away from Ginger, because he knew that if their eyes met, they would both burst out laughing.

"Thurston and I were wondering if you would both care to join us for dinner tonight," she declared. Giger and the Professor were both sure that Mr Howell had had absolutely no part in his wife's generous invitation whatsoever.

"That's very kind of you, Mrs Howell," the Professor began. "However, I'm afraid I'll have to decline your gracious offer," he told her. Mrs Howell's face dropped.

"Decline? My dear boy, whatever for? Don't tell me you've made other arrangements?" she demanded.

"Well...uh... as a matter of fact, I... uh..." he stammered, not quite prepared for Mrs Howell's interrogation.

"As a matter of fact, the Professor and I have made other plans together," Ginger explained, hurriedly. Mrs Howell's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You have?" she asked, intrigued.

"We have?" the Professor began. Ginger shot him a tight lipped smile and brief nod. "Oh! We... we have! Yes. That's right, it had almost slipped my mind," he agreed, almost shouting with joy at Ginger's quick-thinking.

"Yes, the Professor and I were already planning on taking a picnic out to the caves on the other side of the island," Ginger added, smoothly. Mrs Howell looked at the Professor for confirmation. He nodded vigorously.

"Yes, we thought it was such a lovely day, and there are some... ah... ferns... uh... that I thought I could get some samples of," he continued, his voice getting smaller and smaller as he realised how completely ridiculous he sounded. "For my book!" he added, half-shouting again. "Yes! That's it! Ginger said she was going to help me to collect some samples of ferns so I could study them for my book and between us, we decided to make an afternoon of it and take a picnic!" he decided. He and Ginger both let out a sigh of relief as their story finally sounded vaguely credible.

Mrs Howell looked entirely dumbfounded. Evidently, the Professor and Ginger didn't need her help at all. She briefly considered trying to matchmake Gilligan and Mary Ann again, but dismissed it out of hand - she couldn't bear to fall out with her beloved Thurston again.

"Well..." she began, unsure of what to say now that her hopes seemed to have been somewhat dashed. "Perhaps some other time?" she asked. Ginger nodded.

"We'd be delighted to, Mrs Howell," she replied graciously, her nose wrinkling slightly as she smiled at her. The Professor couldn't help but smile when Ginger did that. He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding in his chest, and, even though he was outside, he felt as though he needed to get some air. He cleared his throat, shook his head briskly, and forced himself to think about ferns.

After Mrs Howell had left them, the Professor smiled at Ginger. "That was some pretty quick thinking, Ginger," he commended her. She looked away bashfully from him, and he could have sworn that she flushed slightly.

"Thank you, Professor - but I'm afraid it won't do any good," she told him. He frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Mrs Howell will probably want a full report of our picnic at the caves," she pointed out. He grinned at her.

"I suppose, when you put it like that, the only viable option open to us is simply to go on that picnic together," he reasoned. She smiled slowly at him, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest again. Although he didn't like to admit to exactly what caused his rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath, he was quite relieved by the knowledge that it wasn't any sort of angina attack.

"I'd hate for Mrs Howell to think we'd told her a lie just to get rid of her," she agreed. He chuckled and shook his head.

"You're right, that would have a definite negative impact on the interpersonal relations of the populous," he told her. She blinked once and frowned ever so slightly. "We don't want to make everyone mad at us," he translated. She nodded, vaguely.

It was settled. Roy Hinkley and Ginger Grant were going on a picnic. Together. Alone. Obviously, it wasn't a date. It was merely two friends - of the opposite sex - going on a picnic. Alone. Together. It still wasn't a date. They were only doing it to stop Mrs Howell from attempting to matchmake them. Especially after her disastrous attempt to matchmake Gilligan and Mary Ann.

Besides, as the Professor told himself – repeatedly – the main reason they were going on a picnic together, alone, was so that Ginger could help him collect fern samples for his latest book. There was nothing more to it than that. Of course, the fact that Ginger was the only woman he'd ever met who interested him far more than the flora and fauna of the entire world put together was merely a pleasant bonus to their planned trip.

Later that afternoon, Mary Ann had packed various provisions together for a picnic and waved Ginger and the Professor off on their adventure. The Professor looked Ginger up and down twice before he spoke.

"That dress may be a little impractical if we're going hunting for fern samples," he began, doubtfully. Ginger stared incredulously at him. She hadn't quite been expecting _that_ response to her white full-length evening gown.

"Do you want me to change?" she asked, not sure whether to laugh or cry. He looked at her appraisingly for a moment and his face creased into a slow smile.

"I'd never want that, Ginger," he told her, truthfully. The look on his face made it quite clear that he wasn't talking about her dress at all. "Besides, I didn't say I didn't like it!" he finished, his smile evolving into an impish grin. She beamed back at him, slipped her arm through his and they started their trek to the other side of the island.

It was a beautiful day. Of course, every day was beautiful on the island, and Ginger truly didn't feel she could have been happier. Not even in Hollywood. She was taking a casual stroll on her idyllic paradise 'home' – for want of a better term. Still, she had been on the island for a few months now, and she had almost started to get used to the daily routine of island life. Obviously she would never admit it, but she rather enjoyed it. Yes, she supposed 'home' was as accurate a description as she could think of for the island. She was walking along, arm in arm with the man she… was friends with… and they were going to have a lovely picnic made by the best chef on the island, Mary Ann. What more could any girl want? Even if Rock Hudson himself asked her, at that exact moment, to star opposite him in a new film as 'the love interest', she thought that she might just turn him down. She'd certainly have to give the matter some extreme thought, at least.

She absentmindedly squeezed the Professor's arm and sighed contentedly.

"Don't you think so?" he finished. Ginger looked up at him and blinked.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she stammered. "I… was… I was just thinking, I'm afraid I didn't hear you," she apologised. "I was just taken in by the view," she explained. He looked slightly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Ginger, I was only remarking about the view myself," he told her. "I guess we're lucky to be able to have this unexplored island all to ourselves. There must be so many undiscovered species of fauna around here. Wouldn't it be thrilling to find a new fern?" he asked her, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

Ginger had to be honest, she could think of far more thrilling things to do than to search for new species of fern. Still, her friend was excited by the idea, and that was good enough for her.

"That would be wonderful, Professor!" she agreed. "What would you call it?" she asked. He frowned.

"I… I don't know, I hadn't thought of that!" he admitted. "Maybe when I find it, I'll know," he decided. Ginger smiled at him and squeezed his arm again.

"I hope you do find one, then," she told him.

They settled down after a while and made a start on their picnic. As they ate, Ginger saw something behind the Professor that caught her eye.

"What's that, Professor?" she asked, pointing behind him. He turned around and saw a small, solitary flower, with five large, misshapen petals. It was purple with thick white stripes running through it.

"It looks like a wild hibiscus," he told her, standing up and walking towards it. She followed him and crouched down beside it as he did. "It's the state flower of Hawaii. They can be found in all kinds of different colours. They say that the hibiscus is supposed to represent delicate beauty," he explained.

"It certainly is beautiful," Ginger agreed. "Not in an obvious way. It's more understated and unique," she added. The Professor looked from the flower to Ginger and hesitated for a moment. Wordlessly, he leaned forward and plucked the flower from its stem.

"Here," he began, handing it to her. She looked at him, wide-eyed and not-so-secretly delighted. "It's not like it's an endangered species. I mean, they grow like wildfire in Hawaii. Besides… it might come in useful for my research," he rationalised. It wasn't that he didn't want to give her the hibiscus, he just didn't want her to think that it was anything more than just an hibiscus. After all, it wasn't as though they were on an actual date. They were just two friends. Alone. Together. Having a late lunch.

"Thank you, Professor," Ginger replied, holding the flower close to her and smiling happily.

Around sunset, the two friends made their way back to the huts. They'd had a pleasant afternoon together, eaten a lovely picnic and definitely enjoyed themselves far more than they would have done if they had had dinner with the Howells. Not that they disliked the Howells, they were extremely fond of them. They could just speak to each other more easily when they were alone.

"Thank you for the picnic, Professor," Ginger began, politely, as they reached her hut.

"Well, Mary Ann put it together," he reminded her. She nodded.

"Of course. Thank you, Mary Ann!" she answered. They both chuckled.

"Thanks for accompanying me today, Ginger. I don't think searching for ferns would have been nearly so much fun if I'd just gone by myself," he told her. She smiled at him.

"Really?" she asked, hopefully. He nodded.

"Really," he answered. There was an awkward pause, which Ginger broke by delicately clearing her throat and holding her hand out.

"Well, thanks again, Professor," she began, shaking his hand formally. He nodded and shook her hand in return.

"I guess we've both got a lot to tell Mrs Howell about our picnic now," he remarked. She nodded.

"Oh yes, we can tell her all about the caves and the ferns, and the lovely picnic Mary Ann made for us," she told him. Suddenly, her eyes widened with remembrance. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she began, taking the hibiscus from where she'd put it as a hair decoration. "Your hibiscus," she reminded him, holding it out to him. He shook his head and raised his hand.

"Please. Keep it," he replied. She beamed at him.

"Thank you again," she answered. There was another awkward pause, which the Professor broke by a slightly more manly throat-clearing.

"Ginger?" he began. She looked at him expectantly, and, without pausing to think his actions through properly, he pulled her towards him and kissed her softly. He pulled away and smiled awkwardly at her. "We can just keep that between us, if you want to," he told her, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Ginger couldn't speak, and she wasn't sure if her legs were going to be able to continue supporting her if her knees kept wobbling so violently. She simply nodded and smiled vaguely at him.

"Goodnight, Ginger," he finished, turning around and walking back towards his hut. Ginger felt a little dazed, but she could have sworn his walk had become so jaunty that it almost resembled skipping.

"Goodnight, Professor," she breathed, leaning against the outside wall of her hut.

She stumbled back into her hut and sat down on her bed, looking a little dazed.

"How was your picnic with the Professor?" Mary Ann asked, excitedly. Ginger looked up at her and smiled.

"It was fine, thanks. The picnic was one of your best," she replied sincerely. Mary Ann nodded proudly.

"That's a pretty flower, Ginger," she remarked, pointing to Ginger's hair.

"Thank you. The Professor gave it to me," Ginger explained. Mary Ann's eyes widened. "Oh, it was just because I liked it," she added, as if that made it sound any less like she'd just been on a date. She hadn't been on a date at all. They were just two friends. Alone. Together. On a picnic - and the Professor had given her a flower for her hair. Definitely not a date.

"Uh-_huh_!" Mary Ann replied with a knowing nod. "I'll be back in a few minutes - Gilligan's promised to help me out with washing the dishes after dinner. I want to hear _everything_!" she insisted, grinning with excitement. Ginger nodded her agreement and watched Mary Ann dash outside to see Gilligan.

Ginger settled back on her bed and smiled contentedly. She retrieved the hibiscus from her hair again and breathed in its scent deeply. She knew one thing for an absolute certainty. She had never enjoyed a date-that-wasn't-a-date so much in all her life.

**THE END**


End file.
